


Insieme Noi

by JuliaBaggins



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Misunderstandings, the talks on discord have been inspiring here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-07-11 01:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15961871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaBaggins/pseuds/JuliaBaggins
Summary: Ermal and Fabrizio go on tour together...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After the news about a CD and a tour together and everyone going crazy about it, I decided to start this little something. Hope you'll like it :)
> 
> Thanks to Marjo for helping in finding a title!!

Today is the day. Ermal took a deep breath when he saw the date at his phone, next to the time. As it still was quite early, he decided to not get up just yet, and this might have a little to do with the fact that he wasn’t alone in the room. Fabrizio was still asleep, his breathing calm and even, and Ermal could see his relaxed face under the mess he called his hair at the pillow across the room. Yesterday, when they had gotten here, Ermal had been a slightly bit disappointed about the fact that the hotel room was stored with two single beds, and then, he had quickly scolded his mind for that. It was not as if sleeping in the same room as Fabrizio hadn’t been bad enough, as if the view of him getting out of the shower with just a towel around his waist hadn’t been all it needed to nearly make Ermal’s heart stop in the previous evening. He should be thankful for the fact that they didn’t have to share a bed.

Ermal remembered the day when Fabrizio had suggested this room sharing arrangement – they had been sitting in his kitchen, the one that Ermal had come to know better than his own in the months leading up to the release of their album and today’s start of the tour, and had been talking about money. They already had decided some time ago to donate most of the money they would make with their joint tour to charity, and when Fabrizio had proposed the idea of sharing hotel rooms to safe costs while travelling it had sounded like a very logical thing to do. Only that until yesterday, Ermal hadn’t quite realized that he would be the one to actually share a room with no one but Fabrizio, and what that would mean. When he went to the bathroom in the evening, the image of their two toothbrushes next to each other had nearly been too much for his poor heart, and hearing Fabrizio mumbling something unrecognizable when slowly coming awake wasn’t much better.

Fabrizio sat up in his bed, the blanket sliding down his body to reveal that he had been sleeping shirtless, and Ermal’s “Good morning” might have been a little higher than he usually talked. Though Fabrizio didn’t seem to mind, or to notice, as he just smiled in Ermal’s direction.

“It’s today, isn’t it?”, Fabri asked, and Ermal nodded.

 

Without being aware of it both of them thought back to the same moment – the one when they had finally decided to do this. Of course they had talked about it before, sometimes in jokes and sometimes a little more sincere, but then, one chilly autumn afternoon when Fabrizio had happened to be close to Milan and decided to pay Ermal a visit, and they then had gone to a walk in a park close to his flat, they had started talking about the possibilities. And when Ermal had said how he’d love to create more music together, such sincerity in his voice, Fabri had stopped in his tracks, grabbing Ermal’s arm to get him to stop too, and looked him deep in the eyes.

“You actually want to do this, right?”

“Of course I do, Bizio”, and that smile of Ermal’s combined with the nickname he loved so much caused a funny feeling in Fabrizio’s stomach.

“Then it’s settled. Let’s write an album together!”

And then they had been in each other’s arms, hugging while the wind carried some golden leaves around them, and while Fabrizio caressed his curls, Ermal had another question.

“And we’ll go on tour together?”

“There’s no one I’d rather go on tour with than you.”

 

Ermal blushed a little at the memory, at how his heart had skipped a beat or three when hearing that sentence of Fabrizio, and he couldn’t believe that today they were actually here. Writing the album had been one of the most amazing experiences of his life, then they had recorded it, so much time together in the studio, watching the first people react to what their voices created together, and after the album had come out, as a great success no less, they had quickly announced the tour. Two months of going through Italy, and then another one with concerts in various other European countries. Ermal remembered Fabrizio’s surprise, both at the suggestion of doing this and then even more when seeing the ticket sales, and he had been quick to tell him that _of course_ the people in Europe would want to come see them, especially Fabrizio, live on tour. They had ears after all. And eyes. And Ermal was incredibly honored to be allowed to be a part of this.

They both got up not long after that, and while Fabrizio was in the bathroom, Ermal got dressed. He already had his pants on and just needed a shirt, and oh, there was one close to his bed at the floor, so he grabbed it and quickly got into it. Only to notice that this might not exactly be his shirt, but before he could change, Fabrizio already got out of the bathroom, and he smiled at seeing Ermal in the shirt.

“That seems familiar somehow”, the older man said, his raised eyebrow in combination with his smile making him look way more adorable than he had any right to be, if you asked Ermal.

“Really?”, he answered, because his brain couldn’t come up with much more at the moment, and Fabrizio’s next sentence made it worse.

“Keep it, it suits you.”

And then the Roman had the audacity to _wink_ at him. Ermal started to seriously doubt if he would survive this tour.

 

After having breakfast together with their bands, they went to rehearsals, had a quick lunch and earlier than expected, it already was time for their concert. Wow, the very first show of their tour together. Ermal took a deep breath, another, he felt his nerves creeping in. And then a familiar hand grabbed his, giving it a short squeeze, and Fabrizio smiled at him.

“I can’t wait for this to start”, Fabrizio said, and Ermal couldn’t agree more.

They heard the music start, the intro to the first new song they had written being played, and after one more shared smile, they stepped out onto the stage. Towards their fans that were cheering, towards their tour, towards so many new memories. Together. 

And if they might still have been holding hands when they started singing the song, Ermal certainly didn’t mind it…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is better to do at 2am than laughing about Bernd das Brot and writing a little.. :D

Ermal had played many concerts in his life, but none had been quite like this. To share a stage with Fabrizio Moro, not only for one song, one song that meant so much and had changed both of their lives so deeply, but for _all_ of them, it nearly felt too much of a dream to be true. And yet, here they were. Singing their new songs, together with their fans, but most importantly, _together_. Smiling at each other, their voices a perfect harmony, five hugs (not that Ermal would have been counting, cherishing each of those, holding on a little longer than it was usual even for them), Fabrizio without shirtsleeves, his fingers softly caressing Ermal’s while they finished singing Non mi avete fatto niente. 

After their last song, when the crowd was cheering for them and Ermal felt nothing but all of this energy in the air, all of this love, Fabrizio put an arm around his shoulders. And kissed his cheek. At that, Ermal’s heart might have done a somersault, and he looked towards his friend. They were standing so close to each other, so very very close, and it was as if none of the hundreds, thousands of people in the crowd would have been there, none of their fellow musicians on stage, no. In this moment, it was just the two of them, no one but Ermal and Fabrizio, and they were looking into each other’s eyes. Ermal noticed a few lighter spots in Fabri’s eyes; he had never seen those before, but they were so beautiful, those little imperfections that looked like stars in a deep night sky, and Ermal was lost. His own eyes flickered towards Fabrizio’s lips, and it would have been so so easy, to just lean in, touch them with his own, do what he had dreamed of doing for months, and for once, Ermal nearly was convinced that it would work. That Fabrizio would kiss him back, and after this perfect evening, wouldn’t it be worth the try…

And then, suddenly, the moment was over. Fabrizio blinked, playfully ruffled Ermal’s hair and went on to talk about the awesomeness of their fellow musicians on stage. And Ermal loved his friends, those he had been creating music with for years as well as those from Fabrizio’s band that had joined their project, he loved them dearly, but right now, in that moment, he would have preferred if Fabrizio would have waited another minute to introduce them. Or if they actually had been alone, the way it had _felt_ earlier. Any alternate version of events that would have given him the chance and, more importantly, the _courage_ , to actually follow his heart and just kiss Fabrizio.

The concert ended, they hugged once more, and then left the stage. Ermal was walking with an arm around Fabrizio’s middle, tattooed fingers resting at his shoulder, and then, as soon as they were out of the spotlight, Fabrizio directed a bright smile at him.

“How about I find us a bottle of wine and we celebrate a little in our dressing room?”, Fabrizio asked, and Ermal could only nod, wonder what exactly _celebrate_ might mean. 

Before his mind came to a satisfying answer, Fabrizio already had left, and Ermal allowed himself a little smile. Because this had sounded like flirting, he was sure it had, and that in combination with that cheek kiss earlier, the way Fabri had looked at him in the morning when he saw Ermal in his shirt, the fact in itself that they had spend a good part of the past year with each other to create an album together.. it all was a little bit too much to be coincidental, wasn’t it? And Ermal made a decision. He would tell Fabrizio about his feelings. And he would do it tonight. At that, he took a deep breath, and then started his way towards their dressing room.

 

When Ermal walked further into the backstage area, he nearly bumped into Marco, who gripped his arm to prevent him from falling and then smiled brightly at him.

“This really went good, didn’t it?”, Marco asked, and Ermal nodded. They had known each other long enough for Marco to have noticed how nervous his friend was about this project, as well as just how excited, and he loved to be a part of it.

“It was awesome”, Ermal answered, and Marco agreed with that, but he still raised an eyebrow at Ermal. Because there was something about Ermal’s tone that sounded unusual.

“Ermal, what’s going on here?”

“Nothing, nothing at all, it’s just.. can we maybe chat later? I really need to talk to Fabrizio right now.”

“You need to talk. With Fabrizio. Tell me, are you going to talk to him, or _talk_ to him?”

“I might need to finally _talk_ to him”, Ermal whispered, and suddenly found himself embraced by Marco’s arms.

“I’m glad you’re going to do this. _Finally_ , that’s an understatement! And hey, please believe me – it all will go well.”

“You think so?”, Ermal asked, with a tiny smile.

“Very much so. I’ve got _eyes_ after all, and I’ve spent quite some time with the two of you. It will be alright, or even better than that.”

Marco let go of Ermal and clapped his shoulder, adding an “Go get your man, Ermal!” 

And Ermal chuckled while he turned around, started his way towards Fabrizio. Towards the man he loved, and whom he finally would inform of that fact.

 

„Bizio?“, Ermal called while walking towards their joined dressing room, his heart beating oh so fast.

He still couldn’t quite believe that he was about to do this, that he actually would dare to. It was not like he had never thought about it, _dreamed_ about it, quite the opposite, but to actually _do_ it, that was something so very different. There had been times when Ermal had been convinced that this day would never come, that his feelings towards Fabrizio that so very much weren’t simply those of a friend, of a brother, would stay behind a wall inside his heart to never see the light. And then there had been moments of hope; hugs that lasted a little too long, touches to his hair that were a little too soft, eyes that were a little too intense, reasons to see each other that sounded a little too made up. Lately, joined by songs that sounded a little too much like love songs, and so so many things more.

And being here, on tour together, _their_ tour, it provided Ermal with the perfect opportunity for this talk. While their songs, the hugs, that cheek kiss and the lots of hand holding earlier, and on top of that the conversation with Marco, were what provided him with the _courage_ he needed. Now he just needed to actually find Fabrizio, tell him that he might have fallen a little bit in love here, and then wait, hope, pray that it might be true. That maybe, Fabrizio actually felt the same way about him that Ermal did, that his Bizio might become _his_ Bizio one day. That this day might be today.

 

Ermal walked into the dressing room with a nervous smile on his face, and saw Fabrizio sitting on a chair. He was wearing a different shirt than earlier on stage, this one looked like one of his band shirts, his hair was a mess and he had his back towards Ermal, so he wasn’t aware of his presence yet. For a moment, just a short one, the younger man stopped. And watched. Fabrizio Moro, sitting around in a lazy outfit, seemingly reading something – if everything went well, then maybe Ermal would be allowed to witness this more often. Would steal away Fabri’s shirt regularly, share the morning newspaper with him after having breakfast together, be allowed to make his hair a little messier than it already was. All of this sounded like a dream to Ermal, but recently, he had allowed himself to at least entertain the thought that this dream might become a reality for him, for _them._ Their little wonderful reality. And with this thought, Ermal called Fabrizio, by the nickname that usually possessed the magic of summoning such a beautiful smile on Fabrizio’s face. Only that right now, it didn’t.

“Bizio?”

The older man turned around in his chair, and at seeing his face, Ermal’s own quickly lost its smile. Because this very much wasn’t the way that Fabri usually looked at Ermal - there was something so _distant_ in his eyes, and as if this wasn’t bad enough already, Ermal couldn’t quite convince himself that this here was just the light playing tricks on him. No, there actually were tears glistening in Fabrizio’s eyes, and it didn’t help how he quickly tried to wipe them away, smiled a smile that was so fake that it hurt.

“Bizio, what happened?”, Ermal asked, carefully, while he walked closer. And he had planned to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder, to offer some comfort for whatever might have upset this person so dear to him so much, but Fabrizio shrugged it off. 

“Nothing, it’s all fine”, Fabrizio said, and if anyone ever had sounded as if they were anything but fine, it was him in this moment.

Ermal watched his friend, careful, all thoughts of love confessions forgotten. All he cared about in that moment was helping him, somehow.

“Please, I can see that you’re not fine. Tell me what I can do?”

“No, _you_ can’t do anything.”

And with that sentence, a whisper that felt like a knife to Ermal’s heart, Fabrizio stood up, walked out of the room, looking back not once. Ermal just stared after him, and wondered what on earth might have just gone wrong here…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think I'd write something completely not-angsty, did you? ;)


	3. Chapter 3

"Ermal?", a voice interrupted his dark thoughts, and Ermal looked up to see Marco standing in the door, Andrea lurking behind him. He sniffled, he didn't want his friends to see him like this, with tears on his cheeks and his heart in pieces, especially not after an evening that had been so perfect for such a long time, and yet.. their eyes were clearly showing just how worried they were, and when they stepped into the dressing room, Marco crouched down in front of Ermal while Andrea softly placed a hand on his shoulder.

"What happened?", Andrea asked, and Ermal just shook his head. 

"I don't know", he admitted; the defeat, the helplessness, the desperation weakening his voice, and soon he found himself in the middle of a sandwich hug. 

"I don't even know what I did wrong", Ermal whispered, and Marco just continued to hold him close while Andrea talked. 

"We saw Fabrizio walking away from here and, well, if we had expected to see any of you again this night at all, it certainly wasn't like this. And just, do you want to tell us what happened? What did you say to each other?"

"I really don't know, I just walked in here, and Bizio-", Ermal took a shaky breath after the name, “he was sitting there and I couldn't see his face, I think he was reading something, and everything seemed alright but then he turned around and he was crying, oh god he was _crying_ , and I don't know why but it's my fault somehow, it has to be-"

 

"What has Fabri been reading?", Andrea interrupted in a whisper, and Ermal stopped. _Why should that matter?_

But seemingly, Marco thought that Andrea might be on to something, for he let go of his friends and walked towards the desk where Fabrizio had been sitting earlier. And picked up the newspaper there.

Marco looked through the pages, wondering if maybe it hadn't been the newspaper after all, and then, he stopped. Looked at Ermal over the top of the pages, and sighed. At his questioning gaze, he handed the newspaper to Andrea.

Andrea's brows furrowed in concentration. 

"Last paragraph", Marco said, and when Andrea looked there, he hid his face in his hands for a second. 

"Ermal", he started, and the man in question looked at him totally lost, "I'm sorry to break it to you, and you know that I love you nevertheless, but I gotta say this. You're an idiot."

Ermal nearly started to tear up again, he still had no idea how he somehow had managed to ruin things here, but then, Andrea started to softly touch his curls.

“Hey, Erm, listen to me. I didn’t mean it like that, you know that. But really- Okay, let us make this easy, shall we? You’re in love. With Fabrizio. True or not true?”

With closed eyes, Ermal whispered: “True”, and Marco smiled. Because despite this whole mess right now, he was convinced that not everything was lost yet.

“Then how does it make you feel when Fabrizio tells people about how you two aren’t anything more than friends?”

Ermal swallowed. Just hearing this, it hurt, it hurt so bad – having it laid out like this, that they were nothing more than friends, and probably wouldn’t ever be. And yet, at the same time, he realized something. That whenever this was said, it usually was _him_ , not Fabrizio. Just him, building the wall to guard his own heart a little higher with brick after brick, trying to ignore how they also prevented the light he needed so badly from reaching his heart. The light that Fabri brought to his life, Fabri who had once used this metaphor himself, for Ermal, without knowing how very much Ermal felt this the same way, felt it even more. Fabrizio’s hugs felt safe like the gentle sun warming one’s skin at a bright spring day, and the knowledge that it would end at some point, that the night would fall, like arms not holding him anymore, that even the winter would appear again at some point, like a friend so far away when everything Ermal wanted, _needed_ was for him to be close. To be more than a friend. To be _everything_ , together. That knowledge felt like a knife Ermal was twisting into his own chest.

 

“Ermal?”, Andrea asked, and Ermal focused on his two friends again. Remembered the question he had been asked.

“It would hurt”, he whispered, while trying to imagine it. Imagined Fabrizio sitting in a radio station, laughing at the question, and then assuring the journalists that _of course_ there was nothing more between them.

Marco nodded, and then reminded Ermal of something: “You remember our little chat from earlier, right? How I told you that I’m sure that Fabrizio is just as gone for you as you are for him? And now- nono, please don’t interrupt me, you wanna hear this. Imagine he felt the same as you, and then after this evening, with this wonderful concert and all your hand holding and hugs and those sparks flying that had me fearing my guitar would catch fire, after all of this, when he just wants to celebrate a little with you, he hears that you don’t see anything romantic between the two of you. How do you think that would make him feel, Ermal?”

“What? But I didn’t, I wouldn’t-“

“You did”, Andrea said, and then finally, he handed Ermal the newspaper. 

Ermal looked down at his own face, printed there, he got confused, and then, he read the words. Words that were familiar, because he had said them, even if it had been a few weeks ago. And then, it clicked. He remembered that interview. And he remembered how there had been a question about Fabrizio and him, asked a little cheeky, and how then, he had answered that they loved each other, but not that much. He hadn’t meant it, of course not, but he had said it. And they had printed it. Now, to sell more copies of their newspaper, because with the start of the tour, there was a lot of talking about Ermal. About Ermal, who realized three things.

First, that if that interview had taken place today, yesterday, tomorrow, he wouldn’t have been able to say it. Not even knowing himself that it was a lie. He couldn’t, not anymore. Maybe he would have ignored the question, but telling that he wouldn’t love Fabrizio, that would have been impossible.

Second, Fabrizio had read that interview, god knows where he had gotten the newspaper, but he had read it. Had read how Ermal had said them to be nothing but friends, friends who love each other, but not that much, never that much. And then, Fabrizio had been crying. That seemed like there might be a connection. So it might be true, it _might_ be.. Ermal realized that there still might be a chance. A chance that Fabrizio might love him too.

And third, and most importantly, Ermal realized that he needed to find Fabrizio. _Now_. That he needed to tell him about his feelings, scream it from the rooftops if necessary, anything to make sure that Fabri knew that it hadn’t been the truth, what he said in that interview.

 

“I gotta go!”, Ermal announced, and then stormed out of the room, leaving Marco and Andrea behind. 

Marco and Andrea, who smiled at each other, hoping that it all would go well. That Ermal had come to the right conclusions, and that finally, both him and Fabrizio wouldn’t shy away from their feelings anymore. That their two favourite idiots would get the happy ending that they deserved…


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, last chapter, here we come - I hope you'll like this, and please tell me what you thought! ❤

Ermal walked around the building’s backstage area, was met with some congratulations for the concert as well as some worried glances, but he cared about neither – the only thing he cared about was finding Fabrizio, he _needed_ to find him. But the man was nowhere to be seen, no one seemed to know anything, and he didn’t answer his phone. Ermal had tried to call him three times already, to no effect, and he wouldn’t just put his feelings, his questions, his hopes into a text message; those words were too important to be seen through a phone’s screen. So he continued walking around, even checked the abandoned stage (and tried to not let his thoughts linger on how very different he had felt when he had been singing there earlier, when they had been there _together_ ), the toilets, the stadium’s press room, _everywhere_. And Fabrizio wasn’t there.

As focusing on logic, on _facts_ promised to hurt less than focusing on feeling and fears, Ermal took a deep breath and thought about what he knew. Fabrizio wasn’t here. That meant he had to be somewhere else. And if his guesses about the reasons for the other man’s behavior were true, he probably wouldn’t be at the hotel, they were sharing a room there after all. Ermal didn’t know of any friends of Fabrizio who lived in the city, so that left public places. A bar maybe? Yes, that might be a good start, Ermal thought, so he walked around the nightly streets, trying to fake at least a little smile for the fans who waved at him excited, still on a high after the concert, and oh, Ermal would have loved to feel like them. But he couldn’t, not before he was able to wrap a certain Roman in his arms, not before he knew that Fabrizio was okay. That _they_ would be okay. Or maybe even more than that, more than okay, more than what they had been so far.

Into the first bar, Ermal still walked hopeful; into the third, with at least a little faith, three’s the charm after all, don’t they say so? The fifth bar only was met with a discouraged look on Ermal’s face, and after the seventh, he decided to give up. Or at least to stop it for now, there was no point in visiting _every_ bar in Genova after all. He was not sure where exactly he was, so he got his phone out of his pocket, to have a look – shit. The battery had died, after a day filled with pre-concert-selfies, receiving a lot of enthusiastic texts, trying to call a lost best friend and googling for bars in the neighborhood. So Ermal really was lost, and a church bell somewhere in the distance announced that it already was after two in the morning. Wonderful. Ermal sighed and then looked around, tried to remember anything. That closed post office, he was pretty sure he had passed that before, and hadn’t he read the adds in that bakery’s window earlier? He nearly was convinced that he was on the right way when suddenly, Ermal found himself in a street with a dead end. This neither looked like the hotel’s neighborhood nor like the houses he had seen close to the stadium, and Ermal thought about his options. He didn’t have any money with him, but surely if he called a cap someone else staying at the hotel could pay that at first, or the driver would be able to wait a moment for Ermal to get his money? Yes, that sounded like a plan, and it took Ermal nearly a minute to realize that he couldn’t _call_ a cap. Not with his phone not working.

 

After a few minutes, Ermal started walking into one direction, and for once in this night, he seemed to be lucky, as his steps led him towards a bus stop. That had a map of the city hanging next to it. And Ermal actually wasn’t too far away from their hotel, so he decided to just continue walking, a kilometer more or less wouldn’t make much of a difference now.

When Ermal finally reached the hotel, around 3:30 in the morning, he was surprised to see Marco and a few friends still sitting at the bar. Even more surprised was Marco himself, who hurried out of his seat and towards Ermal. 

“Ermal, where have you been, and where did you leave Fabri?”

“How do you mean that?”, Ermal asked, his voice weakened by tiredness, and Marco placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, we assumed that you had found Fabrizio and that the two of you would have- you know, with none of you answering their phones.. It doesn’t matter now, just, really, where have you been?”

“Searching for Fabri.”

“Since we last talked? And in that clothes?”, Marco asked, and Ermal couldn’t really make sense of the worry in Marco’s eyes. Until he looked down at himself, saw the white shirt, the light blue jacket, and realized that this might not have been the ideal outfit for walking around in the cold night air for hours. 

Marco seemed to have said something else, but Ermal hadn’t really heard him, and so his friend just escorted him towards the elevators and then towards the hotel room. And Ermal was not really sure where Marco had gotten the key card, but he opened the door, and they walked inside. Where they were met with a rather surprising sight.

 

Fabrizio was sitting on the hotel room’s balcony, wrapped in a blanket, and he had lost count of how many cigarettes he had smoked that night. And he also was unsure about when the hotel’s rather cheap wine had started to taste good, but it didn’t matter, not as long as it helped him to feel at least a little better. God, he had messed up. Talking so harshly to Ermal, when after all it wasn’t his friend’s fault that he just did not happen to be in love with Fabrizio too, it was not that Ermal had chosen to feel, or rather _not_ feel that way… Fabri cursed himself internally, for not being able to hide his feelings, or to explain, anything that would have prevented Ermal from not even coming back to their room.

He had lost any count of time out on his balcony, but judged by how quiet the city had gotten underneath him, it had to be rather late (or early) by now. And Fabrizio just wondered if he should go to bed, if maybe sleep finally would have mercy on him and take his regrets away for at least a few hours when suddenly, he heard a noise through the half open balcony door.

 

When Marco turned on the lights in the hotel room, him and Ermal were met with the sight of Fabrizio, a blanket around his shoulders as if it was a cape, standing in the balcony’s open door, his eyes a little red and his mouth open in surprise.

No one said a word at first, but then, the wind blew into the room through the open door, and Ermal shivered. Which Fabrizio of course noticed, looking at his friend in worry.

“Ermal, are you okay?”, he asked, his voice with an edge even rougher than usual thanks to a combination of cigarettes and tears earlier.

“He needs a hot shower and then a few warm blankets. And Fabrizio, I _really_ think you two should talk. In your own interest.”

With that, Marco left the room, and once again, silence inhabited the space, a little awkward this time. After a moment, Ermal went towards the bathroom, felt the hot water burning at his cold skin, and then, he turned off the lights and crawled into bed. Facing the wall, not Fabrizio’s bed across the room. And he wondered if he’d be able to sleep like this, with so many unanswered questions between them, surrounded by a silence that nearly seemed to be deafening, but Fabrizio seemed to have other ideas.

 

“Ermal, I’m sorry. For how I talked to you earlier, right after the concert, that wasn’t nice. Not at all, and I shouldn’t have. So I’m apologizing, and I- I really hope you can forgive me.”

“Can you tell me what had happened? Why were you crying there?”

At that, Fabrizio didn’t answer, and Ermal rolled around in his bed, his face towards the ceiling now.

“Bizio?”

“I can’t tell you, I’m sorry”, and Fabrizio sounded so _sad_ while saying that, Ermal wished he could jump out of his bed and into his arms, to offer some warmth, some comfort. But this wasn’t the right moment, there were still a few things they had to talk about.

“I’d like to ask you three questions”, Ermal said, and it took Fabrizio a moment to answer, but then he agreed.

“Alright, then I want to ask three too.”

“That’s fair. Question number one: were you crying because of that interview in the newspaper?”

Fabrizio swallowed, he hadn’t expected Ermal to know about the newspaper, to get right to the point. But they had agreed on this, and after bathing in his misery the whole evening, Fabrizio felt like there wasn’t too much to lose anymore. So he answered honestly.

“Yes, I was. My turn now: where have you been the whole night?”

“I went looking for you. I feel like I’ve been to every bar in Genova but I couldn’t find you. Where _have_ you been?”, and that hadn’t been one of the three questions that Ermal had planned to ask, but now it seemed relevant.

“I was sitting in the park for some time, waiting if I’d maybe see a star. But they all got swallowed by the clouds and the city lights”, Fabrizio explained, and after a second of hesitation added: “Are you angry at me?”

“No, gosh Fabri, not at all!”, and Ermal nearly would have ended this game of questions, but once started, he might as well finish it. “Do you wish I had said something else in that interview?”

“Yes”, Fabrizio whispered, and Ermal thought his heart might burst. “Do you think we still can be friends?”

“Of course!”, Ermal gasped, and his thoughts were drowned in confusion, how could Fabrizio even ask this, assume that there was a possible outcome of their story that left them as strangers again; that there was a universe in which their fates weren’t tied to each other’s in so many ways.

“Fabrizio, do you love me?”

“That’s against the rules. We only agreed on three questions, you’ve used those already”, Fabrizio explained, his voice lacking any emotions like that of someone who’d drown in them otherwise, if he’d allow himself to feel just a little thing.

 

“Alright, you don’t have to answer that one. But let me answer a few question on my own, okay? Did I have an awesome evening? Yes. It was the most wonderful concert, I enjoyed every second on stage with you, and I couldn’t wait for the rest of the tour, I still can’t. Was I worried about you earlier? Yes, so so much, when you weren’t answering your phone, and especially when I couldn’t find you anywhere. Do I regret ever giving that damned interview? Yes, I do.”

Ermal heard Fabrizio’s sharp intake of breath at that, but the older man didn’t allow himself to hope. Ermal’s reason to regret this probably was just that it had hurt him, caused him pain, as Ermal’s _friend_. Nothing else, nothing more. 

“Have I been telling the truth? No, I haven’t been, dear lord I’ve been _lying_. To the press people, to you, and most importantly, to myself. Because I- I love you. No buts, it’s just that. In every sense of the word”, and after releasing these words into the dark hotel room, Ermal fell silent. Everything had been said, all his emotions laid open. He just needed Fabrizio to answer.

 

The lights suddenly went back on, and Ermal saw Fabrizio standing next to his bed, a tear on his cheek and a smile trying to break through the anxiety, to grace his lips.

“Look me in my eyes and say that again”, Fabrizio said, and added a soft “Please.”

Ermal then got up, standing on bare feet on the hotel room’s plush carpet, and fixed his eyes on Fabrizio’s. Got lost in them a little, like so many times before, and then raised his right hand, to softly caress Fabri’s stubbled cheek with delicate fingers.

“Fabrizio Mobrici, I love you as my friend”, Ermal explained, placing a kiss on Fabri’s cheek.

“And then, I’ve realized that I’ve fallen in love with you”, accompanied by a kiss to Fabri’s nose.

“And _I love you._ ”

Ermal’s eyes flickered towards Fabrizio’s lips, his lips that then _finally_ started to smile. Ermal was convinced that this smile could light up even the darkest November days, and ever since they had met, it had started to light up Ermal’s life. And he was convinced that it would continue to do just that – light up this night, their tour, all the years that may be laying in front of them. And there were so many things that Ermal wanted to say; he wanted to tell Fabrizio about all the little things that had caused him to fall in love with this man. But right now, it wasn’t the moment for that.

Ermal’s words, his breath, his heart got stolen by the first touch of Fabrizio’s lips…

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! ❤


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